


Mimes Deserve Smooches Too

by Dapper_Chicken



Category: Carmen Sandiego (Cartoon 2019)
Genre: Antonio and Jean Paul are together but more as a background relationship, Carmen x Gray if you squint, Don't @ Me, F/M, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, I have no idea what I'm doing, M/M, My First AO3 Post, NSFW, Please Don't Kill Me, Seven Minutes In Heaven Game, Smooching, Smut, basically just reader and MB get down and dirty in a closet, gender neutral reader, how to tag, intense smoochfest, mild blowjob, time to out myself as a mime fucker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-22 17:20:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18139271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dapper_Chicken/pseuds/Dapper_Chicken
Summary: If you were honest, you really didn’t think you’d end your day jacking off a mime in a closet, but beggars can’t be choosers....Or: The author got tired of waiting for Mime Bomb content so they took matters into their own hands





	Mimes Deserve Smooches Too

**Author's Note:**

> This is high key my first fanfiction, and also the first time I've ever written smut so??? Advice appreciated???
> 
> I know hype for Mime Bomb has died down, but this is kinda why I wrote this in the first place cause I am DESPERATE for content of my boy.

If you were honest, you really didn’t think you’d end your day jacking off a mime in a closet, but beggars can’t be choosers.

***  
To no surprise, it was Gray’s idea to play seven minutes in heaven. What was surprising was how quickly everyone agreed to participate. You swirled the water in your cup as you listened to everyone’s antics. When you were in school, you never really made it as a big part of The Group. Athletics weren’t really your thing and you were far more technologically inclined, so Dr. Bellum took you under her wing as a student. You were quite the teachers pet.

  
Gray pulls Antonio and Jean Paul from the hat, and as they make their way to the closet, you smile to yourself, and you see everyone else does too. There's no way Gray picked them by chance. While everyone knew they were romantically involved, its allowed but frowned upon at VILE to get that close with a coworker. Between the watchful gaze of the teachers, and the intense work they’ve had to put out after Black Sheep left, they’ve had little to no extra time to spend together. Sheepishly, they close the door to the closet, and Gray starts the timer. You note that he added an extra two minutes.

  
God, that brings back memories. Black Sh- er, Carmen, was one of the most peculiar girls you’d ever met. Not only was she younger than everyone else, but she was also better than everyone else. Since she bailed, talk of her is treated almost similar to treason. Mentions of her are whispered, and only the teachers dare talk about her openly. However, that doesn’t mean no one misses her. You see traces of her absence every day. Her empty bunk stands like a gravestone in the bunk room, and no one dares to touch it openly. Sometimes, when they think no one's watching, people will run their hands over the metal bars of the bed fondly as they go by, almost as if they’re morning. You know this because you’ve done it many times yourself. You know that some in the group still have the faint hope that maybe she’ll return. She was like everyone's little sister, and you knew Gray missed her the most.

  
Conversation in the room stalls to a comfortable lull. Mime Bomb is busy off to the side reading an imaginary newspaper, Sheena is complaining about the islands ‘no alcohol’ policy, and Gray is nursing a slap mark he got from Sheena earlier on. Come to think of it, you don’t even know why Gray wanted to play this game in the first place. The easy answer would be that your average level of horniness and sexual tension had reached an uncomfortable peak, but things had been too tame recently for that to be the case. People weren’t even using the time in the closet for their intended purpose. When you had been sent in with Jean Paul earlier, all you two had done was play rock paper scissors until it was over. Even when Gray had gone in with Sheena, all he’d received was a hearty slap to the face. Maybe all that’s to come of this is an elaborate plan to give Jean Paul and Antonio some alone time. That would be… Really nice of Gray, actually.

  
The timer goes off, and Gray knocks on the door before receiving the ok to open it.

“Isn’t the point of this to open it without warning?” Sheena doesn’t even look up from her cup as she speaks, “There’s no fun if you give them a heads up.”

  
“Uh uh, no way.” Gray makes his way back to the group and picks the hat of names back up, “Last time I opened a door without knocking, I caught a guy with his donger out.” Gray shudders as he shakes the hat.

  
“Never again.”

  
As everyone else pressures Gray to tell them about his ‘harrowing dick adventure’, you watch Antonio and Jean Paul sit back down, each of them glowing a bit with happiness as they sit just a little closer together than before. You go back to talking with everyone else, and you pipe up with, “Yeah, Gray! Tell us about the dick!” Gray scowls at you and you smile in return as the friendly jeering turns into hoots and hollers.

  
“Oh, gee, wouldya’ look at that! It seems as though our next victim is,” he whips your name out of the hat and announces it loud and clear throughout the room, redirecting the hoots and hollers to you. You finish off your drink and stand, the urge to ruin Grays gag more powerful than any insecurity. Gray dives back into the hat, more than obviously peeking at the names, and before your able to call him out he pulls another scrap of paper from within, revealing only a beret and a bomb drawn on the paper. Every ounce of confidence you had mustered drains from your body faster than water through a strainer. The hoots get louder.

  
“Wow, what a combo! The big MB himself!” Gray winks at you, but you’re too shocked to notice.  
“Go get’em, tiger.” Gray slaps you on the shoulder and pushes you towards the closet, and you finally come back to reality. Mime Bomb is already waiting at the door.  
You glare back at him, and he almost has the decency to look apologetic.

Your relationship with Mime Bomb is friendly. Nothing more, nothing less. Yes, you flirt with each other, and yes, almost all of your conversations together are highly suggestive, but it's in a purely friendly context! It started as a contest to see who could make the most obscene gesture, and after Mime Bomb kept winning you made it your goal to compete with him in terms of how crude you could get with using just your hands, and it turned into a daily occurance. In just the past month alone you’ve learned every swear word in the ASL dictionary, as well as some colorful gestures from Italy. Mime Bomb has also beefed up his arsenal by adding an impressive number of horny anime expressions under his belt. It was a vicious battle. A battle of which, unfortunately, did not go unnoticed. The two of you have been called in front of the teachers at least three times because a staff member who knew sign caught wind of your conversations and immediately reported them. Thank god that you were Bellum's favorite student, or else you wouldn’t have gotten off nearly as easily.

  
One night, sometime in March, you and Gray had managed to break into Shadowsans stash of sake and swiped a bottle. You two then proceeded to get drunk on top of a hill off campus. There was laughing, there was crying, but most importantly, there were confessions. Gray opened up about how much he missed Carmen, and how much it hurt knowing a bond like that could be broken so easily. You opened up about your relationship with Mime Bomb, and how you kinda wished the flirting was real. You two were never really close before this, but the night on the hill top is what solidified your friendship to the point of no return.  
You had honestly hoped that he was too drunk to remember your confession. It seems that hope was sorely placed. Mime bomb flashes you a wicked grin before casting an imaginary fishing line in your direction, reeling you in.

  
“Geez, put a cap on it hotstuff, I’m coming.” Mime Bomb only tries to reel you in faster, earning a laugh from you. Gray taps in some numbers to the timer, and shuts the door to the closet the second you two are inside. You try your best to stay calm, but you can’t stop the shaking of your hands as you start your own timer for six minutes and thirty seconds. After you finish, Mime Bomb turns to you and raises a hand to his face, parting two fingers in a V and sticking his tongue out between them, obviously trying to start another gesture battle. _Alright tiger, come on, if there's any opportunity to make a move, its now_. You take a breath and muster the most confident tone of voice you can manage.

  
“Oh, really? You gonna follow through on that offer?” You walk him backwards until his legs hit a storage box, at which point he hoists himself up a gives you an innocent look. You’re about to continue when you stretch your arm and accidently whack your elbow on a shelf, knocking over a bottle of Clorox in the process.  
“ _Shit!_ ” You cradle your elbow and massage it, trying to get rid of the tingles running up your arm. Meanwhile, Mime Bomb absolutely loses it and almost falls off the box and on top of you, shaking with silent laughter. As you glare up at him, he starts to fan his eyes in attempt to keep his tears of joy from ruining his makeup.  
“Oh, put a sock in it. That shelf was asking for it.” You make eye contact and dissolve into laughter all over again. When you finally compose yourselves, the weight of the situation comes crashing back down, and you try to think fast as Mime Bomb recovers from his last few giggles. You check the timer you preset on your phone. Five minutes thirty seconds. When you look back at him, Mime Bomb winks and wiggles his eyebrows.

  
“We’ve got about five minutes before Gray busts in on us. What do you want to do?” You try your best to give him a sultry look, but you’re pretty sure it ends up looking more like a grimace. He looks up, as if thinking, and while he does he spreads his legs on the box as far apart as possible and shimmies closer to the edge. Despite the obvious meaning behind it, you can’t but snicker.

  
“Do you seriously think I’ll be able to get you off in under five minutes?” You say doubtfully. The look in his eyes convey only one thing: _Why don’t you find out?_

 

You surge forward, your legs hitting the box. You’re about to lean in when you stop. Mime Bomb looks at you, confused, lips still puckered in anticipation.  
“You’re serious about this, right? I mean, I know we joke about this a lot but I wanna make sure you’re actually legit about going through with this cause I really don’t wanna make a fool of myself going for it when its a joke and-” Mime Bomb cuts you off with a kiss, and you immediately melt into it, feeling his hands card through your hair. When you separate, it’s a bit awkward when you make eye contact, both of you giggling slightly at the thought of holy shit we’re actually gonna do this. You initiate the next kiss, snaking your arms around him and pulling him close while he wraps his legs around you. You stay like that for a while, comfortable in each other arms until you take a glance at the timer resting on the box next to him where you left it. Five minutes. He tilts his head and leans into you further, the tip of his tongue running across your bottom lip. You let out a breathy chuckle and say, “Careful,” squeezing his thighs for emphasis. He only gives you a wicked grin and does it again, more forcefully. Well, if there’s anytime to get deep into it, it’s now. You give into him and deepen the kiss, lightning shooting up your spine as you feel him shiver under you. You drag your hands slowly down his lap, savoring the feeling of him tensing beneath you before you push them back up, this time running your fingers up the insides of his thighs. As you get higher, you can feel Mime Bomb hold his breath as you just barely ghost the outside of his crotch and push your hands up and inside his shirt. If this is happening, you want all of him. You trail your kisses across his face and over to his ear, biting gently before whispering, “You still wanna do this?” The vigorous nod you receive in return is more than enough.  
Four minutes thirty seconds. You drag your nails gently down his torso, reveling in the way he writhes underneath you as you start to palm his crotch through his pants. You redirect your kisses to his neck and focus on making as many marks as you can. Mime Bomb has one hand on your hip and one hand tangled in your hair, and each bite has him tightening his grip. Eventually, he lets out an annoyed huff and starts to push away the hand at his crotch. _Fuck_ , you think, _Did I do something wrong? Maybe it’s just not doing it for him-_

  
His hand fights with the button and pulls it open.

Oh

He then pulls down the zipper and struggles with getting himself out of his underwear.

OH

You push his hand away as you finally get the message, reaching down and pressing your hand flush against him and pulling him out of his confines. He lets out a hiss of relief, but it’s soon replaced by more panting as you gently run your hand up and down the shaft, trying to get a better grip on reality. Fuck. He’s already hard and heavy in your hands, and a particularly hard bite on his shoulder has him arching up into your hand, a bead of precum leaking from the tip. At this point, you can’t tell if the fogginess in your brain is from the arousal or the smell of cleaning supplies in the closet, but none of them matter the second you look up and see his face. His makeup is in ruins, red lipstick smeared across the bottom half of his face while the black from his eye makeup is smeared across his cheeks, likely from the hand that’s covering his face in an attempt to stifle the breathy squeaks coming from his mouth. You feel his hand grip your wrist, and you immediately start pumping. You resume work on his throat, differing between licking a stripe across his collarbone to leaning up and making an absolute mess of his mouth, absorbing all of the breathy sounds he has to offer. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you begin to wonder if he really is mute. He hasn’t made a single noise this whole time, and you doubt it’s because of his dedication to the act. You’ll have to ask him about it sometime.  
Right now, however, you’re kind of regretting your plan of giving him a hand job. Despite the amount of precum you’ve managed to get on your hands, it’s not enough to give you a smooth glide. Four minutes. Making a final decision, you give him a gentle kiss before getting to your knees in front of him. He recognizes what you’re about to do immediately and tightens his grip on your wrist, bracing for when you go down on him. You rub his thigh reassuringly, and he relaxes a little under your touch. You, however, can only panic a bit more as you realize you’ve never given a blowjob to anyone before. Thank god you’ve watched enough porn to last a lifetime. Steeling yourself, you bring him closer to your mouth and lick a stripe from base to tip before taking the tip in your mouth. Mime Bomb immediately shudders and bucks into your mouth. Looking up at him, his eyes are rolled back and he’s biting two of his fingers in an attempt to muffle the non existent sound. God, you didn’t think his messy makeup would do it for you as much as it is, but you could get off on that expression alone.

  
Feeling a bit more confident, you gather as much saliva in your mouth as you can before letting it run down his dick, providing a nice lubricant. Well, as nice as you’re gonna get.

  
You pump your hand faster while you tongue the slit. Above you, Mime Bomb just about loses his mind. You can vaguely tell he’s trying to communicate something, but the shuddering that happens every time you suck the tip keeps him from making any coherent movement. He’s given up on trying to muffle his breath, and is now alternating between gripping the edge of the box and running his hands through your hair. Three minutes. You push your free hand up his shirt and drag your nails down his front while you suck harder at the tip, not quite confident enough to go lower. He stills above you for a second, and you think he’s about to cum before he pushes at your shoulder. You pause and look up at him, hoping you didn’t miss any negative cues. He only pulls you up and kisses you to the point of bruising, wrapping his arms around your shoulders while you pump him even faster. His makeup might as well be nonexistent at this point. The black has trailed down his face from tears, and his lipstick has been smeared further by drooling. It’s only when he brings his hands together on his chest in the form of a heart that you understand what he was trying to communicate before, and only when you smile and give him a gentle kiss does he actually cum. His body stiffens under you, and his breath stops for a moment before he releases a long, shakey breath as he bucks and cums in your hands. You barely had sense of mind left to cover the tip with your other hand to try and keep his thick ropes of cum from getting on your clothes. You pump him gently while he rides it out, and only when he pushes your hand off from overstimulation do you stop. It’s a strangely intimate moment between you, as his body turn to jelly and he slumps against you, his breathing still ragged. You kiss his temple and just about every other place you can reach while you look around the closet for something to help get you two in order before you’re rudely interrupted. Your eyes land on a roll of paper towel. Bingo! They also land on the timer, which glares back at you displaying that there are only three seconds left. You stop it before it can go off and do your best to tuck Mime Bomb back into his pants. He comes back to reality at that and finishes for you, hands shaking as he tries to rub away the many wrinkles on his shirt. You grab the paper towel and wipe the mess from your hands. Thank god you had set that timer with the mind to make it thirty seconds early, or else you probably would have gone until Gray knocked on the door.

  
You sit down on the box next to Mime Bomb, only then noticing the issue of your own arousal. Whelp, no time for it now. You try and put it at the back of your mind as you fuss over fixing up Mime Bomb as best you can, realigning his beret and fixing his hair. Surprisingly he pushes you away. He re-messes up his hair and flashes you a smile as he puts his beret on you. It seems as if he wants to give the group a show when he gets out. Oh well, it’s not like you would’ve been able to hide it anyways. Even if his makeup wasn’t messed up, the bite marks across his neck would be a dead giveaway. The silence between you is comfortable as you lean on each other. Mime Bomb eventually gives you a tap, and mouths the words thank you as he blushes from toe to tip. You can’t help but smile, and snuggle up to him a bit closer.

  
“Anytime. This just means you owe me one.” The look he gives you is scandalous as he gestures to your pants with a wink.

  
“No can do, we’re out of time. Gray should be busting in on us any second.” He looks genuinely sad as he shrugs and wraps an arm around you. Almost transfixed, as you look at each other, you lean in for another kiss. Only this time, it feels way more intimate. Hell, you’re hand was literally on the guys dick less than a minute ago and the gentle peck he gives you sets your nerves on fire all over again. You wait together for Gray to knock on the door, both of you dreading the inevitable as you snuggle for as long as possible. However, even though the seven minutes are up, there’s no knock. Eight minutes go by, then nine. There’s no way Gray forgot to set the timer. Maybe this was his way of lulling you into a false sense of security before inevitably busting down the door? No, he would have done that at seven minutes. He has to know that you’d be more prepared than that. Unless-

  
_That son of a bitch gave you extra time_. Your face burns as you realize that Gray did the same thing with you that he did with El Topo and Le Chevre. It burns even more when you realize all of his reasons behind doing so are going to be validated the second you walk out that door. When ten minutes goes by, there’s a loud chirpy knock on the door before Gray shouts, “C’mon love birds, your time is up!”

  
You leave the closet first, and keep your head down in an attempt to stall the inevitable. When Mime Bob leaves, however, he makes a show of stumbling out of the closet and gripping the frame for support, fanning his face. The general hoots that were custom for the game turned into straight out yelling as people lost their shit upon seeing Mime Bomb. Money exchanges hands as Tigress hands gray a twenty and El Topo hands Le Chevre a five. When you sit back down and try to keep yourself from blushing too badly, Mime Bomb makes his way over to you and drapes himself across your lap, making himself cozy.

If you were honest, you really didn’t think you’d end your day jacking off a mime in a closet, but when said mime ends the day drawing hearts all over your arms with lipstick, you can’t help but feel as if you wouldn’t want it any other way.


End file.
